Page 6 of Friend Me

He pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked a few times. “We’ll be able to see Saturn. And the ISS transit is at 8:45.” A broad grin spread over his face as he checked the charts.

The tightness in my chest eased. The Christmas lights were an anomaly. Dad was still as sharp as ever. “Tell you what,” I said. “You wash the dishes, and I’ll set up the telescope.”

He stood, quicker than he should, wobbled briefly, but then snatched up his bowl. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffled to the sink. The telescope was too heavy for him to manage now, but I’d leave the adjustments to him.

When I carried my bowl to the sink, I kissed his stubbled cheek. “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Sunshine. But we can’t stay out late tonight; you have school tomorrow.”

I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh through my nose. Hefting the telescope case from its shelf, I clattered down the back steps into the lavender light of sunset. In the tiny backyard with its rosebushes and succulents, where we’d planted the Japanese maple for my mother, where Dad had taught me to throw and catch a baseball, and where we’d turned our gazes to the stars on countless clear nights, I breathed in the scents of home, the one he’d built for my mother and me.

My mother had died before their third anniversary, but at least she’d briefly known a perfect, fairy-tale love. Someday, I’d have it, too, and it’d make up for not having a mother to tuck me in at night, to give me the talk, to take a hundred pictures of my prom date and me. For not having a single memory of her.

Cooper hadn’t even had to take off his shirt for me to fall for him. And sure, I’d touched him plenty of times, shaking his hand on my first day, handing him papers or his phone on many days since, and no spark yet, but a dance, a magical wedding dance, would bring us together. Like Cinderella and Prince Charming.

---